


Yours, Truly

by mahbecks



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Background Relationships, Banter, Chill XV, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/pseuds/mahbecks
Summary: “We should do something about it!” Gladio crowed. “Something… something special. Something to let everyone know that I belong to Ignis fucking Scientia! I’m his, and he’s mine! We’re together!”“I got it!” Prompto leaned forward, voice an excited, carrying whisper, and said, “You should get a tattoo!”“Yeah,” Noctis said, snickering, “Do it. Get ‘Property of Ignis Scientia’, right on your fucking ass.”Or, the story of how Gladiolus Amicitia woke up one morning and discovered that not all decisions made while drunk are good decisions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/gifts).



> It's been a good day, friends.
> 
> I've started my new job, got assigned my first actual project, got my appointment for my next tattoo squared away, I just bought some banging new lipstick, and a lot of my favorite authors/stories updated today. So, yeah. I thought I'd contribute to the fun. 
> 
> Once again, this isn't to be taken too seriously. It's meant to be funny, with a dash of sexy times for good measure.
> 
> For AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene), a conversation with whom inspired some of the events of this ficlet :) hahaha

“Iggy.”

Gladio was grinning at him, a dark flush to his cheeks from the whiskey neats he’d been pounding all night. With one big hand, he reached out for Ignis’ shoulder. He missed, almost falling off his barstool, and then broke down into a fit of laughter.

“Shit!”

“Perhaps you’ve had one too many,” Ignis mused, taking a sip of his own drink.

“No such thing,” Gladio shot back.

“Your liver might beg to differ.”

Gladio laughed, picking up his glass and raising it to Ignis. “Funny,” he said. “You’re funny. _Real_ funny. Fun-ny.” He went to take a drink and half-missed his mouth, whiskey dribbling down his chin.

Prompto, giggling all the while, subtly pulled out his camera, holding up his own rather unsteady hands and snapping a photo before showing it to Noctis. “Dude, he is _so_ drunk,” he said. He turned to Ignis, holding out his phone. “You want me to send this to you, Iggy?”

Ignis looked down at the picture, smirking. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Please share.”

“You got it!”

Normally, he wouldn’t have encouraged this sort of behavior - getting drunk in a seedy Insomnian bar, out in the open for anyone to see. But all of them had been working so much lately - preparing Noctis for his future role as King, readying themselves for the trip to Altissia, keeping themselves abreast of the situation with the Empire - Ignis hadn’t had the heart to shoot the excursion down when Prompto had suggested it. They all deserved a break every now and then. And if someone happened to see them, out and about… well, what of it?

Noctis was a young man. His friends were young men and women. Young people went out on the weekends and had fun.

Being a crown prince didn’t preclude one from letting loose every now and then.

An indulgent smile on his face, he turned back to Gladio, who was busy wiping his face with a napkin. “Did you need something, Gladio?” he asked.

Gladio blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You said my name earlier,” Ignis clarified. “Before you nearly fell out of your chair, that is.”

“Oh yeah,” Gladio said. He paused to laugh, and then added, “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

He pointed a finger at Ignis. “I’m _yours,”_ he said, wolfish grin turning into more of a soft, genuine smile.

Ignis lifted an eyebrow at the admission even as warmth flooded him.

“I just thought you should know it, that’s all,” Gladio continued. “I don’t want anyone else - _ever._ ”

Ignis’ smile deepened, even as Noctis made gagging noises beside him. He elbowed the prince hard in the stomach, ignoring his indignant yelp.

Gladio slammed a fist down on the table, startling several of the bar’s nearby patrons. “We should do something about it!” he crowed. “Something… something special. Something to let everyone know that I belong to Ignis _fucking_ Scientia! I’m his, and he’s mine! We’re _together!_ ”

“Must you shout?” Ignis asked, grimacing. Even if he did appreciate the sentiment, he saw no need for the rest of  _Insomnia_ to get the chance to appreciate it as well.

“Dude, seriously,” Noctis added. “You sound like you’re proposing.”

“‘M not doin’ that,” Gladio said, frowning. “I… no.” He leaned forward, giving Noctis a serious look - or at least, as serious a look as he was capable of producing in his current state. “When you propose to someone, Noct, you gotta do it right. Flowers, and a ring, and the one knee thing, and booze, and… and… you can’t just _spring_ it on someone without all the stuff. ‘S not right.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ignis said, “Spontaneity has a certain… romance to it, don’t you think?”

Gladio’s eyes lazily flicked over to him. “You wanna get married then, Iggy? Right now?”

“I hardly think now is the time for that, Gladio,” Ignis replied, ignoring the way his traitorous heart had skipped a beat at the suggestion. “You can barely stand.”

“So?”

“So, it might be difficult to convince anyone to marry us if you’re lying on the floor.”

“Hmph. Guess so.”

“No, no, not necessarily,” Noctis said. “I could do it.”

“What?” Prompto asked sharply, right at the same time that Ignis hissed, “ _Noctis._ ”

“Yeah,” Noct said, more sure of himself. “It’s just got to be a civil servant of some kind, right? Well, I’m the prince. Doesn't that count for something?”

“You are not marrying us,” Ignis muttered, shooting his charge a deathly glare.

Noctis smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the matter, Iggy? Cold feet?”

“If your father-”

“Dad?” Noctis snorted. “He think you guys are the cutest couple in Insomnia. Honestly? I’m a little offended.” He slung an arm over Prompto’s shoulders, drawing the other close to him. “I’m his kid and Prompto’s adorable, and he _still_ likes you guys better.”

“Aw, shucks, you think I’m adorable?” Prompto asked, grinning. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the prince’s cheek.

“Totally,” Noct agreed.

Ignis cleared his throat. “King Regis’ opinion aside, Noctis, you are still _not_ marrying the two of us,” he said firmly. “Not here, and certainly not now.” He turned to Gladio, fixing him with a stern gaze. “If you wish to make some permanent display of your affection, I’m afraid you’ll have to think of something else.”

Gladio seemed nonplussed by this, narrowing his eyes in thought. But it was Prompto who came up with the next terrible idea, snapping his fingers as his face alit with glee.

“I got it!”

“What?”

Prompto leaned forward, voice a carrying whisper, and said, “You should get a _tattoo!_ ”

“Oh, for goodness' sake,” Ignis groaned, putting a hand to his forehead.

“Where?” Noctis asked, scrunching up his nose. He looked at Gladio, eyeing his already inked biceps and shoulders. “Do you have any room?”

“A tattoo? Of what?” Gladio asked.

Ignis looked up sharply, horrified to see that Gladio actually looked to be _considering_ the idea.

“You know, Iggy’s name or something!” Prompto continued. “In a little heart! With an arrow sticking out of it!”

“Sounds awful cutesy,” Gladio grunted, and Ignis relaxed a little, thinking his lover was going to turn the idea down. He started to gather up his things, motioning for the others to do so as well, deciding it was more than time they’d left this establishment.

“Well, you don’t _need_ the heart,” Prompto said, sticking his phone into his pocket and shrugging into his jacket. “I mean… I guess Iggy’s name would be good enough.”

“Yeah,” Noctis said, snickering, “Do it. Just get ‘Property of Ignis Scientia’, right on your fucking ass.”

“Oh my _gods,_ ” Prompto crowed, giggling, “Yes!”

“You can’t be serious,” Ignis scoffed, fixing his charge and his friend with a scandalized look.

“Huh. Could be worse.”

Ignis rounded on Gladio. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Gladio shrugged. “Why not? Not like anyone but you’d ever see it,” he said. “And besides… kinda hot, innit?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “My ass? Your property?”

Mmm. Well.

Now that he mentioned it…

Ignis shifted on his feet, ignoring the spike of pure want that had lanced through him, hitting him hard. Because yes, of course, Gladio’s ass was _his,_ and his no one else’s, Ignis the only one Gladio trusted enough to do that with him. A little reminder of that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Even if did seem incredibly ill-thought out.  

But no, he shouldn't be contemplating this, it was wrong of him to do so, and he irritably forced the idea - and the accompanying images - away.

“Dude, your dad would kill you.”

Gladio snorted, shooting Prompto a scornful look. “The fuck’s he gonna see it?”

“I dunno,” Noct said, smirking, “Maybe when he wipes the floor with your ass next time you two spar?”

Gladio rolled his eyes, slamming a hand down on the table. “That was one fucking time, princess,” he said, “And I was _seventeen._ ”

“Sure,” Noct said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“‘Sides, he ain’t got time for that now,” Gladio added. “He’s doin’... doin’ shit, y’know? Like your dad! They’re-”

“Doing shit?” Ignis asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah,” Gladio said, grinning. “Iggy gets it.”

Now it was Ignis’ turn to roll his eyes.

“Okay, fine, your dad’s busy. Whatever. But what about Cor?”

Gladio froze - quite a feat, given his current level of intoxication. “Shit,” he breathed.

“Cor creams your ass on a regular _basis,_ ” Noct said, grinning triumphantly. “You gonna show him?”

“Fuck no,” Gladio said, shaking his head. “Okay, so maybe no…”

“Why?” Prompto asked, tilting his head to the side. “You chicken?”

“Hell no,” Gladio snapped, grabbing for a drink that wasn’t there anymore. When he found it was empty, he blinked in surprise. “Where’d the booze go?”

“Your stomach,” Ignis said dryly.

“Oh. Right. Need another, then.” He reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a wad of bills. A few coins spilled onto the table too, plinking loudly on the polished wooden surface.

Prompto grabbed one, holding it up so that it caught the light. “Oh, no! You aren't getting away that easy, big guy! Okay, so if you aren’t a total _chocobo,_ let’s do this - heads, you go home tonight, no tattoo. Tails, and we go find someone to stick a needle in your ass!”

Ignis didn’t like those odds. Nor did he like the contemplative expression Gladio had adopted, gil going lax in his hands. He bit his lip, hoping Gladio still had enough common sense to reject the notion -

“You’re on!”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger as Prompto whooped loudly in his ear. Perhaps it had been too much to hope for - this _was_ Gladio, after all, a man who couldn’t back down from a challenge if his life depended on it.

Especially not when he was completely, totally wasted.

Noctis grabbed the coin out of Prompto’s hands. “Okay, ready?” he asked.

“Do it!”

Ignis watched with bated breath as Noct flipped the coin up into the air, catching it expertly in one hand and then smacking it down onto the back of the other. He kept it covered, looking up at Gladio with a grin on his face.

“Go on,” Gladio urged, leaning forward. “Lemme see.”

Noct held his hand out, counting down from three before revealing the coin’s face.

“Three… two… one!”

They all crowded forward, the bar’s dim lighting make it difficult to see whether the coin had landed upsides or down. Prompto saw it first, jumping up and letting out a high-pitched laugh. Noct was close behind, snickering into a hand as he finished up the last of his drink.

“What is it?” Gladio asked, turning to Ignis. “I can’t see. Prompto’s fucking head’s in the way-”

“It’s tails,” Ignis said flatly.

_Tails._

“Oh.” Gladio sat back in his chair.

Ignis watched him for a moment, wondering if maybe he’d recant his decision after all. Maybe he would finally see this stunt for the idiocy that it was. But then Gladio stood, stumbling a bit as his feet hit the ground, and Ignis resigned himself to the fact that they were indeed going to seek out a tattoo parlor that night.

 _Astrals preserve me,_ he rued, gathering up his jacket. _We’re really doing this._

He would've attempted to talk Gladio out of it - if he thought he had any chance at all of succeeding. As it was, Gladio was already eagerly walking towards the door, having left a large wad of gil on their table to cover their tab.

He nudged Ignis as they fell in step, moving outside into the chill, night air. “You ready for this, Iggy?”

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Hell yeah!” Gladio said, in a surprisingly enthusiastic voice.

Ignis thought he should attempt to remind him of his eagerness come morning, when he was no doubt suffering a mind-splitting hangover and nursing a wounded backside.

Gladio slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in tight. “Sure you don’t wanna get one too? We'd have a matching set.”

Ignis scoffed and half-heartedly pushed him away. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed.

“Worth a shot,” Gladio said, shrugging.

Ignis shot him an affronted look. “Hardly.”

That drew a laugh from Gladio, and he turned back to see what was taking Noctis and Prompto so long. “Hey! Slowpokes! You comin’, or what?”

“Comin’!” Prompto cried, dragging Noct out of the bar by the hand.

The walk to the tattoo parlor was long - and not just because Gladio was stumbling all over the place. It was difficult to find a shop that was open at this hour. The place that Gladio normally visited had long since closed for the night, much to his dismay. Ignis had to physically drag him away from the painted windows.

Finally, after perhaps an hour’s search, they managed to find a small, out-of-the-way parlor that was open around the clock. Ignis surveyed the premises, trying to keep his nose from scrunching in distaste at the dirty windows and old, peeling paint on the walls.

Noctis made no such attempt. “Are you serious?” he asked. “We’re going in…”

“In there?” Prompto finished.

“It’s well-rated on cleanliness,” Ignis mused, pointing to the sign next to the door. “Or so the health department says.”

“I’m not going in,” Prompto said suddenly, shaking his head. “Nope. Not gonna do it.”

“Now who’s chicken?” Gladio demanded.

“If the two of you wish to return to Noct’s apartment, I’m more than happy to drive you back,” Ignis said.  

“What?” Gladio squawked. “And leave me here on my own?”

Ignis rolled his eyes, shoving the hand suddenly clawing at his waist aside. “You’ll survive,” he said flatly. “Besides, I’d come back for you.”

“Yeah?”

“...most likely.”

“Aw, Iggy-”

“I don’t want to go back yet,” Noct said. “I wanna see this.” He turned to Prompto, grabbing him by the hand. “Please, Prom, can we stay?” he wheedled. “Pleeeeeeeease?”

Prompto tried to resist - for a moment. Then he caved, allowing Noct to grin and pull him through the door and into the shop. Gladio, still hanging onto Ignis by the shoulders, poked him in the side. “C’mon,” he said, “Can’t let ‘em get a heart start.”

Ignis ignored him, instead trying to look as serious as possible. “This is your last chance, Gladio,” he said quietly. “Do you really wish to do this?”

“Heh, you make it sound like it’s the end of the world, Iggy,” Gladio replied, grinning. “C’mon - it’s just a tattoo.”

Ignis snorted. “Yes, _just_ ,” he said. “A small, permanent stain on your buttocks for all eternity-”

“Y’know, you bein’ all snarky like that kinda turns me on.”

Ignis extricated himself from the other’s grip, putting a hand to his back and pushing him in the direction of the doors.

“In you go,” he said flatly.

“Aw, I don’t get anything for that?”

“Not a damn thing.”

Gladio pouted his lips and shot Ignis a mournful look before stepping forward into the shop, the bell over the door chiming as it opened.

A moment later, a resigned Ignis followed.

Six, but this was a bad idea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't take this as proper tattoo procuring technique, hahaha, this is mostly crack. Most shops won't - and they really shouldn't - tattoo you while drunk because alcohol is a blood thinner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to get out! 
> 
> Hopefully, sassypants!Cor makes up for it a little?

When Gladio awoke the next morning, he quickly realized two things.

First, his ass hurt. A lot. And not in the usual, “get fucking wrecked” kind of way that signified Ignis had fucked him into the mattress.

Second, his head was threatening to split in two.

He groaned, reaching up to palm his face. “What time is it?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

“Ten thirty-seven.”

The answer was crisp and precise, with just a touch of amusement - Ignis, then. Gladio wrenched his eyes open, peering blearily around the room. Sure enough, his lover was sitting at a table with a newspaper, what was probably his third cup of coffee that morning in his hands. He gave Gladio a small smile over the rim of the mug, lifting an eyebrow.

“You look well,” he said.

“Oh, bite me,” Gladio retorted, rolling over onto his side and reaching for his phone. It was a mistake - the world reeled, his stomach protesting violently, and he had to keep still for a few minutes so he didn’t lose his breakfast.

Er, dinner.

...whatever was left in his stomach at this point.

“Here.” Suddenly, Ignis was at his side, pressing a tall glass of water into his hands. “Drink this, if you can.”

“Think I’ve had enough to drink,” Gladio muttered, though he took the proffered glass just the same. “Can I have a potion instead?”

“And ignore the valuable lesson that is to be learned from overindulging in whiskey?” Ignis tutted.

“Iggy, c’mon,” Gladio whined, barely managing a sip of the water. “I’m dying here.”

“You most certainly are not,” Ignis scolded. But then he sighed and put a hand into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a small green vial and offering it to Gladio.

Gladio smashed the bottle, shuddering as the icy magic washed over him, smoothing over the pain in his head and ass. He sighed in relief, stretching out a little now that he felt he could do so without vomiting. Ignis watched him, shifting from foot to foot, a curious expression on his face. He looked like he wanted to ask a question, and so Gladio called him out on it.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Ignis replied mildly.

“Then why’re you starin’ at me like that?”

Ignis’ eyes narrowed. “How much of last night do you remember?” he asked.

“Honestly?” Gladio sat up, reaching for the glass of water he’d abandoned for the potion and taking a long draw. “Not much.”

“Then what’s the last thing you recall?”

“Uh, well…” Gladio wracked his brain, trying to piece together various bits of his memories into a cohesive narrative. “We went to a bar, and we were drinking… and then we left, went to go do… something. Don't exactly remember what. Did we… did we go to a drive-thru at some point? Tacos?”

“Yes, there were tacos,” Ignis replied, nodding. He sat down again, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know that you dropped one of yours and ruined the upholstery of my back seat.”

“Sorry,” Gladio said sheepishly. “I’ll try to clean it up.”

“No need - I’ve already seen to it,” Ignis said. “But don’t think I’ll be so easily persuaded to stop for greasy drunk food the next time you’re intoxicated.”

Fair enough.

“Is that it, then? All that you remember?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Ignis made a contemplative noise before going back to his newspaper. It made Gladio a little bit suspicious, and he wondered if Ignis knew something he didn’t.

But this was Ignis. His best friend, his boyfriend, his _partner._ So if he’d done something truly stupid or embarrassing last night, Ignis would have told him. Hell, he’d probably have taken great delight in pointing it out to Gladio. He was a little bit of a sadist that way.

Reassured, he stood, unsurprised to see that he was completely naked. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he said.

Ignis nodded, waving him off. “Don’t forget you’re supposed to spar with Cor this morning.”

_Shit._

Because that was the last thing that he needed the morning after he’d pounded at least a fifth of whiskey. To get his ass kicked by the one guy in the kingdom who could hand his ass to him on a regular basis. His fucking mentor, fucking Six.

Cor had also, coincidentally, taught him how to drink, but that was neither here nor there.

“Just what I needed,” he muttered, padding off towards the bathroom. “To get my ass stamped with Cor’s fucking bootprints.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

Gladio looked back over his shoulder, but Ignis hadn’t looked up from his newspaper. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Take it however you want,” Ignis shot back.

Gladio stared at him a moment longer before shrugging and continuing down the hallway. Whatever. It was too early to be playing mind games with Ignis, and his thinking was still a little muddled from the night before. Potions could works wonders - but not miracles.

He kept his shower quick and to the point - no unnecessary scrubbing or lingering beneath the hot water. No sense in it, if he was gonna go spar with Cor. He’d take a bath later, steal some of Ignis’ nice soap - the kind that bubbled and smelled fresh, like mint and herbs. He grinned, dredging most of the water from his hair and flipping the knob. Maybe he’d even manage to convince Ignis to take a bath _with_ him.

He liked that idea. He liked it a lot.

Gladio stepped out onto the bathmat, grabbing a towel and drying off. After working his hands through the worst of the tangles in his hair, he made for the bedroom, grabbing a pair of athletic shorts and a plain tank top. He threw them on haphazardly, not bothering to see if the colors matched, before pulling on his sneakers and heading back out into the living room.

Ignis hadn’t moved, though he had flipped to a new page. He looked up as Gladio reentered the room.  

“Heading out, are you?”

“Yeah, be back in an hour or two,” Gladio replied, grabbing his gym bag from the rack near the door.

“Alright. Try not to land on your rear end too many times. I wouldn’t want you to land on such a delicate area.”

_Delicate? The fuck?_

He said this with a hint of bemusement in his voice, and again Gladio was struck with the thought that there was something going on that he didn’t know about. Frowning, he stuck one hip out to the side, making a frustrated noise. “Y’know, I’m beginning to think you’re up to something.”

Ignis lifted an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Making all these snide comments, smirkin’ at me like that… it’s enough to make any guy suspicious.”

“Of what?”

Gladio shrugged. “Dunno.” He tapped his nose and pointed to Ignis. “But I’m onto you, Iggy. I got your number.”

Ignis snorted, going back to his newspaper. “If you say so.”

“I do.”  

* * * * *

Gladio had to hand it to Cor - he might’ve been several decades older than Gladio, but he was no fucking slouch in a fight.

He winced as he pulled his tank top over his head, one of his deltoid muscles twinging in protest. That was gonna hurt later. It had been dumb, a silly mistake. But Cor was fucking _fast,_ and he’d gotten up under Gladio’s guard before he quite knew what had happened, and then Gladio had been falling, and it was either take the brunt of the fall on his shoulder or risk snapping his wrist.

He rotated the joint a few times, trying to get a feel for how much damage had been done. It ached, and already a dark bruise was forming on his tanned skin. But he didn’t think he’d done the muscle serious damage. A few painkillers and making sure that he slept on the other side of his body would probably suffice.

Finished with his inspection, he bent over to untie his shoes. He chucked them in his locker once he was barefoot and moved onto his shorts, wadding them up into a ball and tossing them in after the sneakers. It left him naked as he crouched on the floor, but who cared really?

Not Gladio.

He stood, grabbing the bag of toiletries he kept stashed in his locker. Shampoo, soap, a comb, a razor… everything seemed to be in order. Satisfied, he grabbed a towel and slung it over his shoulder, making to head towards the showers.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Gladio looked back over his shoulder. Cor was standing behind him, his own towel slung loosely around his hips. He had a strange look on his face, staring at what Gladio could only assume was his ass.

“Starin’ at my ass, Cor? I’m flattered, but I’m taken.”

Cor didn’t say anything in response, instead crossing his arms over his chest and barely lifting an eyebrow.

“Nothing you ain’t seen before,” Gladio continued.

That earned him a wry snort. “No,” Cor said, “this is definitely a first.”

Gladio frowned, half-turning around. If he wasn’t mistaken, Cor sounded almost… amused. But that couldn’t be right because this was Cor fucking Leonis, who only ever sounded bored, annoyed, or angry. Or at least, that’s the only way he ever sounded to Gladio. Being someone’s taskmaster from a very early age tended to have that effect.

“What? I got something on my ass or something?”

Cor blinked at him. “I’ll say.”

Gladio looked down, twisting his spine to try and see what Cor was referencing. But he’d never been a terribly flexible person - anybody with a lot of muscle mass wasn’t - and he couldn’t get very far. Try as he might, his ass was just out of view. With a frustrated breath, he turned back to Cor. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

Muttering something under his breath - what Gladio suspiciously thought sounded like “I don’t get paid enough for this,” - Cor took a step forward and grabbed Gladio by the elbow, dragging him over to the row of sinks lining one wall.

“Here,” he said, turning Gladio round and pointing to his ass, “Look.”

Gladio frowned, surprised at the dark smudge on one toned ass cheek. “Are those words?” he demanded, edging a bit closer to the mirror.

They were - words in script, no less, fancy calligraphy curving across the plane of muscle.

“Property of Ignis Scientia,” Cor read.

“Aw, fuck,” Gladio said, running a hand over his face.

This was it, then - what Iggy had been so fucking gleeful about all morning. They’d gone and drawn something on his ass in permanent marker, something they thought was real funny. Though now that he thought about it, he _did_ remember saying something about belonging to Ignis the night before… gods, he sounded like a fucking idiot when he was drunk.

“Don’t suppose you know somethin’ that’ll get permanent marker off, huh?” Gladio asked, looking over at Cor.

Cor frowned. “That isn’t marker,” he said flatly.

“What? ‘Course it is, what else would it-”

“Gladio, that’s a fucking tattoo.”

“ _What?”_

“I’m surprised you can’t tell, as many as you already have.”

Oh, no.

Gladio ran his hand over the words, desperate, hoping Cor wasn’t right. But no, there it was - the telltale raised flesh of a newly inked tattoo, rough and scratchy to the touch. It was tender too, smarting slightly when he unthinkingly added too much pressure.

He groaned, hanging his head.

Well. That explained the fucking pain in the ass.

“I’d ask how you got it, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

Gladio snorted. “I’d tell you, but I don’t fucking know myself.”

Cor considered that for a moment. “Alcohol?” he finally guessed.

“Whiskey.”

“Ah.”

Gods, he felt like a fool.

Of all the dumb, stupid things to do while drunk - and he’d done quite a few stupid things over the years, he could admit it - this took the fucking cake. A tattoo? On his ass? Reading how he fucking _belonged_ to Ignis?

Hey, it was true, but still, _c’mon._

 _It’s not that big a deal,_ he told himself, brain working a million miles a minute. _No one sees your ass. You can cover it up. Hell, you can even get it removed if you wanna fork over the cash._

He nodded to himself. No one had to know about this.

Well, Ignis would know - _knew,_ he supposed was the better term. He’d undoubtedly been there last night when this had all gone down. Probably why he’d been so freaking _amused_ this morning. And if Ignis was there… Gladio suppressed a groan. If Ignis had been there, it meant that Noctis and Prompto had been there too. Fuck.

Still, things could be worse - those two could keep a secret when they wanted to, and Gladio planned to make sure that this was a secret they wanted to take to their fucking graves. And besides, who were they gonna tell? Each other?

Okay, so that took care of that.

Gladio jerked away, a loud snapping noise startling him out of his thoughts. He looked over at Cor, glaring, only to be horrified when he saw the other had his phone in his hands, staring at the screen. One corner of his mouth was curled up ever so slightly, forming a slight dimple in his cheek. On anyone else, it would’ve meant nothing.

On Cor, it was as good as a fucking shit-eating grin.

“The fuck are you doing?” Gladio demanded, making a grab for the phone.

Cor was too quick, dancing out of the way and tucking his phone safely back into his bag. “Getting evidence,” he replied.

“Evidence? For what?”

“Well, your dad isn’t going to believe this if I don’t have _proof_ -”

“Oh, hell no,” Gladio growled, lunging. “You are not showing my dad anything!”

“Hell yeah, I am.” Again, Cor sidestepped him easily, his smaller, leaner frame making it easy for him to quickstep just out of Gladio’s reach.

“Give that here!”

“I don’t think so,” Cor shot back.

“Fucking jackass.”

“Maybe next time, don’t get deadass drunk and go to a tattoo parlor, yeah?”

“Yeah, like I need lessons on drinking from you,” Gladio retorted. He grinned at the way Cor hesitated, sensing surprise. “Oh, yeah, Dad’s told me all about how you used to raid the King’s liquor cabinet, back when you were too young to get it legally. And how you threw up in his car.”

“That all you got?” Cor demanded.

“How about how you got drunk and ate all of Weskham’s spices that one night in Altissia on a dare?”

Cor snorted. “Still beats getting a fucking _tattoo on my ass,_ Gladio.”

Dammit, but he was right, and goading Cor wasn’t getting him anywhere. He should’ve known better; the Cor Leonis who stood before him now wasn’t the Cor Leonis his dad talked about in the old stories he’d once told Gladio before he’d gone to bed. That Cor had been young and impetuous. This Cor was a solid, unyielding object.

One hellbent on giving his dad all the ammunition he needed to make his life fucking miserable.

He decided to try a different tactic. “C’mon, Cor, don’t,” he said. “Don’t do this.”

“Why? I want to.”

“My dad’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“...that’s kind of the point, Gladio.”

“You sayin’ you ain’t ever done anything stupid you didn’t want getting around?”

“Of course I have,” Cor retorted. “And people gave me plenty of shit for it. Your father, for one.”

“Because he’s an ass!” Gladio took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Look. What do I gotta do to make sure you this never leaves this room?”

Cor eyed him speculatively. “I’m not sure you have anything worth offering,” he said.

“C’mon.” Gladio took a step closer, and Cor took one back. “There’s gotta be something.”

“Hmm.”

Gladio waited for bated breath, hopeful that Cor’s silence meant he was considering. Whatever it was, he’d do it without hesitation. Clean up the lockers after training sessions with the recruits? Done. Oversee early morning workouts? Done. Scrub the grease and muck off the practice weapons for the rest of his fucking life? _Done._

Anything was better than Clarus Amicitia finding out his son had gotten a tattoo on his ass proudly proclaiming its _owner,_ like it was a fucking pair of underwear.

“Okay.”

Gladio blinked, the acceptance coming out of nowhere. “Yeah?” He paused, waiting for Cor to tell him what he’d have to do. When Cor said nothing, Gladio frowned. “So… what is it? What do I have to-”

“Nothing, right now.” Cor shrugged. “But I ever need anything done that I don’t personally want to do? You better come running.”

“Sure.”

“And I’m keeping the picture for good measure.”

Gladio balked.

_...is he fucking blackmailing me?_

The stoic expression on Cor’s face told Gladio everything he needed to know.

_Yes. Yes, he is._

“Deal.”

Cor nodded, tossing his bag into a nearby locker and twirling the dial on the combination lock. “Nice doing business with you,” he murmured, clapping Gladio on the shoulder as he passed him on the way to the showers.

“Business,” Gladio muttered, shaking his head. “Yeah, real fucking nice.”

The doors swung shut behind Cor, leaving Gladio alone in the room. Common sense dictated that he join the older man, scrub the sweat and dirt from his body. He stank, and his muscles were begging for a warm shower.

And yet…

He walked back over to his locker, yanking it open and pulling his dirty clothes out. He didn’t think twice before donning them, ignoring the sticky dampness and the way they smelled like a fucking armpit.

Cleanliness could wait a few more minutes. For now, there was only one thing on his mind, and that was getting to the bottom of this, figuring out _exactly_ what had happened last night, getting all the nitty-gritty details.

He knew just the guy to ask, too.

Reaching for his phone, he punched in a number and brought it up to his ear as he pushed out of the locker rooms and made for the elevators. It rang twice before the person on the other end picked up.

“Hello?”

“Iggy? We need to talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and schmoop warning! Sorry not sorry :) 
> 
> Posted from my phone, so apologies for any errors. I'll correct and do a few more read-through's when I have access to my laptop.

Ignis was a patient man.

Some of that could surely be attributed to his innate temperament. He had never been particularly hasty. But mostly, he thought it was a learned behavior. Endless meetings with politicians, extensive bickering with bureaucrats, slowly prodding Noctis to do his homework… while sometimes frustrating, such tasks were nothing if not to blame for his ability to wait.

Being with Gladio had taught him patience as well.

Gladio was… different from the men and women who had come before him in Ignis’ affections. He was… more permanent, less transient. Irreplaceable, even. The fact that Ignis loved him was no small thing.

Sometimes, that terrified Ignis.

And so he had forced himself to be patient with Gladio, to be cautious. He had waited for Gladio to show interest in him before he attempted any flirtation. He had waited for Gladio to kiss him before kissing back. He had even waited for Gladio to say “I love you” before he dared to let himself say the words, though he suspected he'd felt them long before Gladio had.

It was safer that way. It made him less prone to rejection, to failure, and while Ignis wasn't totally risk averse, caution was only practical. There was a reason patience was considered a virtue.

Sometimes, however, patience wasn't about safety or necessity. Instead, it was desirable for something else entirely.

Delayed gratification.

Such was the case with Gladio and his newly tattooed ass. Ignis could have told him the truth as soon as he’d woken that morning. Perhaps he should have done so. But then he wouldn't have gotten to overhear Gladio's discovery of the tattoo, and so he'd waited, sure that Gladio would notice the mark when he showered.

Only, he hadn't discovered it while he bathed. Nor had he seemed to have seen it while he was dressing.

It was only now, several hours after the fact, that Gladio appeared to have realized what had happened. Why else would he have called Ignis, demanding they talk?

Ignis fought to hide a smirk, wondering what Gladio would say when he walked through the door to their apartment. It would be a question surely, some demand for an explanation. Not that there was really much of one to give. But Gladio wouldn't rest until he had gotten the whole story, never one to leave things unsaid or questions unasked.

So Ignis would tell him what had happened. He would explain how Gladio had been challenged into getting a tattoo on his ass by Prompto, and how Gladio had accepted. He would tell Gladio how he had stumbled into the tattoo parlor and grinned like an idiot as the artist had pushed him into the fetal position before getting to work. And if he was asked, he would even tell Gladio how he squealed like a stuck pig when the needles had finally touched him, right before breaking into a fit of giggles and nearly falling off the table.

The Six had been kind to him last night - he had managed to get video footage.

Ignis looked up as the front door opened, just in time to see Gladio stomp into the living room and drop his gym bag on the floor. He marched right up to Ignis, the glare on his face doing more to arouse Ignis than frighten him, and dropped his shorts, turning around and pointing a finger at his rear end.

“Iggy.”

His voice was calm, controlled, and Ignis had to give him credit. He was certainly more contained than Ignis would have been in his situation.

...but then again, Ignis would never be in this sort of scenario in the first place, so he supposed it was a moot point.

“What the hell is this?”

Ignis studied the tattoo for a moment, not at all bashful as his eyes roamed over his lover’s ass. It was such a lovely thing, really - it would be a shame not to look at it now, when he had been given such an invitation.

It was firm and taut, nicely round too - perfect for filling out those ridiculous leather pants Gladio was so fond of wearing. Ignis knew from experience it would fill his hands nicely, were he to reach out and grab it, the skin warm and surprisingly soft. The sight of his name, permanently etched into Gladio's flesh, might have made him laugh once. Now it just filled him with want. His cock had gone hard between his legs, and he shifted, trying to conceal his arousal. Sex would have to wait, he was sure - at least until they'd finished this conversation.

“Well?”

His time to ogle was up.

Ignis flicked his eyes upward, meeting Gladio's baleful stare halfway. “Why, it's my name, Gladio,” he said lightly. “But you know that, surely. You can read.”

Gladio rolled his eyes. “And why is your name on my fuckin’ ass, Iggy? Riddle me that one, huh?”

“Because it belongs to me,” Ignis said, referring to the other words that sat just before his name on Gladio's skin. “Obviously. It says so right here.”

He ran a finger across the raised flesh, not missing the way Gladio shivered beneath the light touch.

“Nuh-uh, nope, not gonna work,” Gladio said, stepping forward and out of Ignis’ reach. “You aren't gonna dirty talk your way out of this.”

“I haven't said anything-”

“Yeah, well, you're usin’ your sex voice, the one you think gets you anything you want, so there.”

“I've never done anything you didn't want as well,” Ignis drawled. He tilted his head to the side, lips curving up into a smirk. “Have I?”

Gladio's scowl wavered. “Stop that.” It was half-hearted, no true feeling behind the words, and Ignis’ smirk deepened.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently.

“Turnin’ me on,” Gladio retorted. As if to emphasize this point, he turned around, crossing his arms over his chest, and Ignis wasn't the least bit surprised to see his cock standing at half-mast between his muscular thighs.

“It isn't my fault that the fact that you belong to me arouses you.”

“Iggy-”

“Nor is it my fault that you decided to go and get a physical reminder of that fact stamped on your read end. You were quite implacable on that front, as I recall it.”

Gladio winced, ire fading fast. “Yeah?”

“Oh yes,” Ignis replied. “You were entirely too eager to go into that tattoo shop.”

“Where did we go?”

“Excuse me?”

“What tattoo shop did we go to?”

Ignis frowned at the unexpected question. “I believe it was an establishment called Lucky’s Round-the-Clock Ink.”

Gladio groaned. “Shit.”

“Does it matter where we went? We did make sure the place was up to par with health codes first.”

“And they just… agreed to tattoo me?”

“I'll admit the artist was a little hesitant at first.”

“But…?”

“But you threw a stack of money at him and told him you'd make it worth his while. Rather shamelessly, actually.”

“Fuck me,” Gladio moaned.

“That's what he said, too.”

“This is embarrassing.”

“No doubt that's why Prompto suggested it to you.”

Gladio's head snapped up. “What?” he asked, voice gone low.

“Didn't I mention that?” Ignis asked, smirk returning. “That it was a bet? Prompto flipped a coin over it - heads, and you didn't have to get the tattoo, tails, and you did.”

“The fuck?” Gladio demanded. “That little punk... And who the hell would agree to that?” 

“Apparently, you.”

Gladio made a derisive noise. "And what about you, huh? Where were you in all this? You're supposed to be the voice of reason here, Iggy-”

“I tried to talk you out of it,” Ignis said, affecting a sigh. “But you simply wouldn't be moved. You were adamant that you needed my name permanently emblazoned upon your ass. You even seemed to think it was sexy, if I recall correctly.”

And he always did.

Gladio stared at him for several minutes, frustration slowly morphing into something akin to acceptance. Eventually, he shrugged and fixed Ignis with a sheepish look.

“It's true, y’know,” he said.

“What is?”

“I'm yours.” Gladio hesitated just a moment, and then plowed ahead. “Don't really need a tattoo to make that any more obvious, but it ain't gonna do me much good to complain about it now.”

“No, I suppose not,” Ignis replied, a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest at Gladio's admission.

As Gladio had said, he knew it was true; he was Ignis’, through and through, and Ignis was his. There were no doubts of that, not with how passionate of a lover Gladio was. He loved talking about their relationship, expressing his feelings with an openness Ignis had always found both startling and inspiring. How would it feel, to so readily proclaim to the world that he loved Gladiolus Amicitis? How freeing, how terrifying, how wondrous?

Ignis had always been the more private of the two of them, figuring no one needed to know their business save the two of them. It wasn't hiding things, not really - but neither was he one to flaunt their relationship.

A tiny part of him wondered what it would feel like to throw caution to the wind. To do something permanent about their love, the way Gladio had done - admittedly, while dead drunk, but the sentiment was there, Ignis well knew. But what would he do? There was no chance of him getting a complementary tattoo, no, and he had never much cared for public displays of affection. The obvious solution was for them to formalize their commitment to one another, in a ceremony of some sort-

Ignis paused, cheeks flooding with heat at the thought.

 _There's a word for that,_ you know, he told himself, wryly. _Marriage_.

Ridiculous. Insane. Now was hardly the time for that sort of thing, not when Noctis still relied upon him for so much. And besides, they were still young, only in their early twenties - what was the rush? No need to go galloping down to the altar just yet.

Not to mention, he had no idea how he would ask Gladio, and these things required careful planning and consideration, and there was something about asking permission from the parents of the person you intended to wed - an archaic custom, true, but Gladio's noble status indicated it might be a necessary ritual to complete-

“Iggy?”

Ignis blinked, surprised to see Gladio had moved closer to him, his face dangerously close to Ignis’ own. “Yes?”

“You okay? You're blushin’.”

“I'm not,” Ignis retorted.

Gladio didn't call him on the blatant lie. Instead, he grinned. “It's kinda funny, huh? Me gettin’ a tattoo on my ass?”

“If by ‘funny’, you mean exasperating, yes,” Ignis said. “It's hysterical.”

“Cor seemed to think so.”

Ignis froze, uncertain whether to laugh or panic. “The Marshal saw it?”

“Pointed it out to me, yeah.” Gladio snorted, shaking his head. “Took a picture too. Pretty sure he's gonna use it to blackmail me some day.”

“He wouldn't.”

“He fucking would, and you know it.”

“...perhaps.”

Gladio chuckled. “Still, better’n my dad knowing. Can you imagine how pissed he'd be?” He paused, thinking. “Actually, he'd probably laugh. Call me an idiot. Ask me when the wedding is.”

Ignis’ breath caught in his throat. Gladio didn't seem to notice as he continued to speak.

“Doesn't matter what they think, though - Cor or Dad. Not really, s’long as you're okay with it. And hey, it's not that bad, right?” he added, jostling Ignis with his elbow in an attempt to bring out a smile. “Shit, Iggy, this could be our story!”

“Our story?” Ignis repeated.

Gladio nodded. “Yeah, you know - that story people tell when it's time to share stupid shit you did when you were young. This can be ours!” He dramatically waved a hand in the air. “The time I drank a fifth of whiskey and paid some guy to write my boyfriend’s name on my ass! For short, Gladio Gets Drunk.”

Ignis couldn't help it. He laughed.

“We should write it down somewhere,” he said. “For posterity.”

“Slap a photo next it,” Gladio agreed, grinning.

“Although I hardly think it's our stupid story - you were the only one who did anything.”

“Eh, you're guilty by association.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“Sure, whatever, Iggy-”

“If anything, it should be your and Prompto’s story, since he's the one who made the bet with you in the first place.”

“It ain't Prompto’s name on my ass,” Gladio disagreed.

“I should hope not.”

Gladio chuckled and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Ignis’. His mouth was warm, and soft, and inviting, and he tasted of that orange sports drink he was so fond of.

“Just yours,” he muttered, smiling, pulling back far enough to peer at Ignis through his impossible long eyelashes. Ignis had always been jealous of how they kissed Gladio's cheeks when he was sleeping, how they fanned out to nearly touch his brow bone. They were beautiful, entrancing.

But then, all of Gladio was beautiful to Ignis. He feared the word had lost much of its significance.

Gladio was kissing him again, pulling him to his feet and pushing him back against the wall. Ignis allowed it, reveling in the feel of Gladio's mouth moving against his. It wasn't rushed, as their encounters sometimes were, but the heat building between them was palpable and heady as the minutes dragged on.

Suddenly, Gladio broke away, pressing his forehead to Ignis’, and laughed.

“It's funny.”

Ignis opened his eyes, regrettably wrenching his kiss swollen lips away. “What is?” he panted, hands curling in the fabric of Gladio's tank top. It was sweaty and damp, probably in need of a good wash. Ignis rather thought he should take it off.

He got his wish a moment later, Gladio slipping out of the garment and carelessly throwing it backwards.

“I didn't think gettin’ an ass tattoo would go this well,” he admitted, grinning at Ignis.

“Oh?” Ignis asked, unable to come up with a better response as Gladio reached out and started undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“Nah. Thought you'd be mad. Or tease the fuck out of me.” He slipped a hand underneath the loosened fabric of Ignis’ collar, running his fingers down to twist a nipple. “Not try to seduce me.”

Ignis let out a shaky breath as a spike of lust coursed through him. “Plenty of time for that later,” he replied. Gladio’s fingernails scraped down the side of his chest, and Ignis groaned. “Here I was thinking _you'd_ be mad.”

“More surprised than anything,” Gladio said, leaning in to kiss at Ignis’ neck. He traded nips and bites, surely leaving a trail of little red marks in his wake. “I've done a lotta questionable shit while drunk, but I think this takes the cake.”

“You'll find no arguments here.” Ignis shrugged the rest of the way out of his shirt, pulling Gladio in as close as he could. Fully naked, he could feel Gladio's cock press against his thigh, and he sighed happily when Gladio thrust it against him.

“Now that I'm past the shock,” Gladio continued, “I think it's kinda hot.”

He bit down on Ignis’ collarbone, and Ignis yelped, the noise quickly turning into a moan when Gladio's other hand reached down and palmed him through his pants.

“You like that, Iggy? Your name on me?”

Ignis nodded frantically, bucking his hips up into Gladio's palm. The calm from before had shattered, red hot need hastening his actions. He pressed forward shamelessly, wanting more friction against him. Gladio seemed to sense it, increasing the pressure of his hand on Ignis’ cock.

“How much?”

Ignis scowled and pulled Gladio's head away from his neck. The other was smirking at him, all too aware of the effect he was having.

“You ask too many questions,” he snapped.

“Yeah? They turnin’ you on?”

Ignis didn't answer, pushing him back towards the hallway and grabbing him by the wrists, leading him to their bedroom. Gladio didn't make it easy on him, leaning forward and kissing whatever part of Ignis he could reach - his face, his neck, his ears. It was driving Ignis mad, and Gladio well knew it.

When they reached the bedroom, Ignis let go of Gladio, intent on getting out of his pants and undergarments. Gladio sat back, watching as Ignis undressed, lazily reaching a hand down to stroke himself as he did so. It made Ignis pause, mouth gone dry with suddenly want, but then Gladio stopped what he was doing, and Ignis hastened to finish.

“Hey, Iggy.”

Finally free from his trousers, Ignis stepped forward, kissing Gladio deeply.

“Yes?”

“Can I ride you?”

_Gods, yes._

Gladio reached out for Ignis’ cock, stroking him from base to tip, and Ignis had to reach a hand out to steady himself. His fingers dug into the meat of Gladio's shoulder, and Gladio rewarded him with a little squeeze, swiping a thumb across the head of Ignis’ cock.

“Can I?”

It took Ignis a moment to realize he hadn't answered Gladio's question. He nodded fervently, and then the next thing he knew, he was lying on his back, Gladio's mouth around his cock.

One of them moaned - or maybe it was both of them. Gladio had always loved giving head. And by the Six, was he good at it. Ignis was almost shaking by the time Gladio pulled away, skin flushed and damp with sweat, raw heat roiling in his belly. His bangs had fallen down into his eyes, and Gladio reached up to brush them away, hand swiping over Ignis’ forehead once before moving away towards the bedside table.

“Wanna do it?” he asked, opening the drawer and pulling out the bottle of lube stashed there. “Or should I?”

“You do it,” Ignis breathed, urging Gladio to move into his knees. He had always loved watching this part - the way Gladio would spread himself wide, fucking himself on his own fingers, head thrown back in ecstasy. It was… incredible. And the fact that it was something only Ignis got to see made it all the more special.

Gladio was all too happy to oblige, slicking up his fingers and reaching behind his back. A low, rumbling noise left his lips as he slipped the first finger inside, slowly sinking it home. He shuddered, leg muscles flexing and then relaxing as he forced himself to still. Ignis drank in the sight of him, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Eyes locked on Ignis’ face, Gladio slowly began thrusting the finger in and out of his hole, cock bobbing obscenely with his movements. Ignis couldn't decide where to look - Gladio's face, his dick, his hand, slowly sinking in and out of his body… he wanted to look everywhere at once, but he simply hadn't enough eyes.

“Add another,” he murmured.

Gladio grinned at him, the smile only slipping a tiny bit as a second finger joined the first. He didn't allow himself much time to adjust before he started fucking the digits. The noises he made went straight to Ignis’ cock, leaking copiously against his stomach. He burned to touch himself, to ease the sweet, sweet ache building between his thighs - but then he also wanted to touch Gladio.

Gladio made the decision for him, a light whine leaving his lips as he forced the fingers particularly deep.

“Iggy,” he gasped, “Please.”

Ignis reached out, his own need forgotten as soon as he touched Gladio's cock, the ragged moan the other made more than enough compensation.

“Hell yeah,” Gladio groaned, bucking up in Ignis’ fist. “Just like that.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, hands working in tandem. But it wasn't enough, for either of them, and soon enough Gladio was pulling his hand away, reaching for the bottle of lube. He was quick and efficient, hands not lingering. Ignis would have protested this sparse preparation, were Gladio not already starting to sink down onto his cock.

As it was, he was rather speechless.

“Shit,” Gladio muttered. He sank all the way down, until his ass was flush with Ignis’ thighs, his breathing harsh.

Ignis rather shared the sentiment, wanting nothing more than to snap his hips up, burying himself in that tight heat. But Gladio had asked to ride him, not sit atop Ignis as Ignis fucked him, and so he remained still, trembling with the effort.

Gladio rolled his hips - and Ignis’ eyes nearly rolled back into his skull.

But Gladio didn't stop there. That was merely the beginning. Bracing himself on Ignis’ chest with a hand, he began to fuck himself in earnest, lifting and lowering himself on Ignis’ cock. His movements were slow, but deliberate, and Ignis’ toes curled in sheer pleasure, unable to do anything save grip Gladio's hips and stare, completely slack jawed.

“Fuck, Iggy, you feel so good.”

Ignis groaned, fingernails digging into taut, tanned skin.

“I fuckin’ love ridin’ you like this.” Gladio moved his hand up to Ignis’ shoulder, his free hand coming up to tangle in his hair as he continued to writhe on Ignis’ cock. “So good - so damn good.”

He leaned forward, kissing Ignis. It was sloppy, more tongue than lips.

Ignis didn't care. He only wanted to get closer.

He sat up, hands moving up to wrap around Gladio's back. The position shift made it harder for Gladio to move, and so Ignis adjusted to help, thrusting up when Gladio sank down.

“Fuck!”

The new angle allowed Ignis to slide even deeper into Gladio’s ass, and he took full advantage of it, hands clasping on Gladio's shoulders to keep him in place. It wasn't easy - Gladio was still doing most of the work, and he wouldn't be denied. His head had fallen forward onto Ignis’ shoulder, each hot breath fanning onto overheated skin.

He was close, Ignis could tell. His pace had gone erratic, muscles clenched tight. Ignis wasn't far behind, orgasm already coiling up in his belly, threatening to rob him of his senses. He reached between them for Gladio's cock, jerking him once, twice, three times in quick succession.

With a hoarse shout, Gladio stiffened and came, hands digging into Ignis’ sides. Ignis rode it out, thrusting up into Gladio a few more times as the other went still. Before long, he was coming too, white hot pleasure searing his mind before everything went blissfully blank.

They collapsed backwards in a sticky, sweaty pile of limbs. Gladio didn't move to get off him, instead snuggling in even closer. Ignis didn't have the heart to tell him to move, even if he knew Gladio would regret the soreness later.

“This is…”

Ignis waited for Gladio to finish his sentence, curious.

“This is real, yeah?” Gladio pulled back a little, so he could see Ignis’ face. “You and me?”

“Of course it is.”

“Sometimes, I still can't believe it,” Gladio admitted, again brushing the sweat-soaked bangs from Ignis’ face. “Seems too good to be true.”

Ignis felt giddy - but perhaps that was just the dopamine talking. He forced back the happy laugh threatening to burst from his lips, allowing himself a small smile instead.

“So what if it is?” he asked. “You're allowed to have nice things, Gladio.”

Gladio snorted. “You callin’ yourself a nice thing?” he asked.

Ignis _did_ laugh at that. “I suppose I did.”

“Eh, it's true. You're pretty nice.” He wiggled around a bit, squeezing the muscles in his ass, and Ignis groaned at the sudden tightness around his cock. “Especially that part - that's really nice.”

Ignis rolled his eyes and grabbed for Gladio's softening cock. “I could say the same of you.” He gave a light squeeze, pleased at how Gladio shuddered above him.

“Okay, I'll stop,” he said quickly, rolling away to lie on the bed beside Ignis. “I'm too tired for round two.”

“Losing your touch?” Ignis teased.

Gladio scoffed. “Hardly. But before this, I had my ass stomped by Cor. I'm worn the fuck out.” He shifted, moving onto his stomach, grabbing a nearby pillow and stuffing it under his head. “Think I'm gonna take a nap. You goin' anywhere?"

"I have the afternoon off."

"Good. I got a few more questions later. 'Bout this thing." He gestured vaguely at his ass, and Ignis snorted. 

"I'll be here."

Within moments, Gladio was asleep.

Ignis studied him as he relaxed on the bed, breathing gone deep and steady. Gladio was a messy sleeper, sprawling this way and that, taking up more of the bed than he had a right to - but in these first few moments, right after he fell asleep, he was still and peaceful. Gentle, even. This was Ignis’ favorite view of him, the one he'd fixed in his mind’s eye to recall whenever he was feeling stressed or overworked or lonesome. It always brought a smile to his face, made everything seem not quite so impossible.

His gaze shifted, falling on the new tattoo on Gladio’s rear. He snorted lightly, raising a hand to trace the whirls of the writing.

It was ridiculous, really, how a tattoo on Gladio's ass made him feel so happy. How it had inadvertently made him realize how very strong their relationship was. But it did - _had_. The tattoo was something permanent, an actual, physical sign of what Gladio felt for him. A silly one, perhaps, but a sign just the same. It would have to suffice, until they could more formally make things official.

Until they could get married.

For Ignis had no doubts that there was where things were headed. It was inevitable, the idea of a life without Gladio almost unbearable. There was no one else he could envision at his side. What he felt for Gladio was… stronger, more intense than anything he'd felt before in his life.

It was frightening.

But it was also permanent - as much as the ink on Gladio's body. The years might pass, and other things might change, but this? What the two of them shared?

No. It was forever. Of that too, Ignis was certain.

And that was a comforting thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, when you get a tattoo on your ass, the best way really is essentially the fetal position. You have to stretch the skin as tight as possible because ass skin is naturally kinda squishy and textured. Now, that might not be an issue for Gladio and his buns of steel, but for the rest of us? XD

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, feedback is much loved and appreciated :)


End file.
